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Dad wraps his arms carefully around me, forcing me to look away from the wall. “We’ll get that taken care of, Baby Girl. I’m sorry. I’m not sure how we missed that.”
Nodding, I take another deep breath and allow him to guide me down the hallway. My feet try to stop when we reach the bathroom, the spot where Carter first grabbed me, but Dad urges me to keep walking rather than dwelling on it.
Once we’re in the main room, I’m able to breathe easier.
That is until I look around.
The Johnson Chasers are out and Timber’s talking to both Candi and Star.
My heart squeezes when Candi places a hand on Timber’s arm as she smiles up at him sweetly and he doesn’t shove it away.
Is this what he’s been doing when he hasn’t been home? Spending time with them doing God knows what?
Turning away from him, I force myself not to cry. Why am I always the one that has to fight to keep Timber with me? He should be making sure they don’t cross any lines as well.
Instead of going to Timber, I make a beeline for a spot I know will keep me somewhat hidden, but my feet pull up short when I get there.
Reaper is sitting on the couch in the middle and it looks like he had the same plan I had. He’s writing in his journals.
Looking over my shoulder, Candi’s hand is still on Timber’s arm and he laughs at something they said. My heart breaks a little more and I quickly wipe a tear away.
Clearing my throat, I clutch my bag closer to me. “I-Is it okay if I sit by you, Uncle Reaper?” I ask, my voice probably no louder than a whisper, but he still hears me.
He looks up at me, his face quickly turning to one of worry before his gaze bounces across the room and when it narrows, I know what he’s finally seen. I’m surprised he doesn’t say anything about my ‘uncle’ slip since I know they like to go by just their road names, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
He pats the spot to his left, and I carefully sit down. I learned the hard way that moving too fast while sitting down or getting up pulls a lot on my wounds. Slipping off my flats, I cross my legs and set my backpack on my lap, using it as a bit of leverage before pulling out my journals.
Reaper looks at me, his eyebrow raised, and I give him a soft smile.
“How long?” he asks me and my smile falls.
“An hour,” I whisper and he grunts, patting my knee before going back to writing in his own journal.
Settling in, I get to writing, though every now and then, my gaze always finds Timber. Each time, my chest tightens further. He’s still talking to the Johnson Chasers with his back toward me.
And when one of them notice me looking, they touch him.
Every time, I hope that Timber will push them away or turn and notice me, but he doesn’t.
This time though, it’s a scuffle that has me looking up from my journal and pulling my attention across the room.
Dad has Timber pinned against the wall, their voices hushed. Timber’s gaze looks around the room and the surprise on his face when his gaze finally lands on me has my chest tightening even more.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the clock above the bar reads 11 am. I’ve been writing for two hours. Two hours and Timber hadn’t even noticed I was in the room the entire time.
Turning and shifting, I lean my back against Reaper’s shoulder, effectively giving Timber my back, and go back to my writing.
Well, at least I try to.
I bite back a sob as tears threaten to fall. Pain courses through me once again, but it isn’t from my wounds.
It’s from Timber.
The man who swore he’d always love me and protect me.
Doubts swirl around my mind once again. Wondering if he doesn’t believe me about not being raped. Does he think that I’m damaged now that I’m all scarred up and someone else put their hands on me? Not to mention him flirting with two whores for at least the past two hours. Who knows how long it was going on before I came in here? I’m not the only one in the room that notices his actions either. Has he been doing this for the past two days as well?
Hastily, I wipe my face, angry at everything that’s happened and from the pain of being ignored by the love of my life.
